


Convalescence

by blumen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Character Study, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hair Brushing, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Marriage, Medication, Men Crying, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Post-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 09:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13784295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumen/pseuds/blumen
Summary: “I get frustrated at myself,” Viktor began. It used to be hard for him to talk about how he felt. It still was to an extent. Before, he could only do it over text messages but eventually he grew more comfortable with allowing other people to venture inside his head. “I do everything I'm supposed to do. I drink enough water, I eat well, I exercise, I socialise, and yet I still feel like this. I can do things that make the depression feel a bit lighter but it still feels as if there's nothing I can do to get rid of it.”------Yuuri and Viktor have a talk about recovery in the midst of a bad day.





	Convalescence

**Author's Note:**

> So I know people who read these fics tend to be on the neurodivergent side (me included) so not to get preachy but if you're in a position to get medical help please do. If not, talking to friends genuinely helps, coming from someone who would rather shove pencils in their eyes than talk about my feelings. If you don't feel like you have friends to talk to there's this site where you can get paired with someone the same age as you with similar interests to try and boost mental health so if that sounds interesting to you you can find it [here ](http://www.buddy-project.org/)  
> Also medication gets a bad rep but if you get offered it please try it. I've only been on mine for about three months but it's honestly been life changing. (However, meds aren't suited for everyone!! My depression is mostly due to biology but even if yours is more cognitively based, it's worth trying!!) With all that said, I hope you enjoy this fluff

Viktor awoke with a heavy feeling in his chest. His eyes opened and he immediately regretted it, the sun hitting his eyes like a solar beam. He reached for his pillow and shoved it over his head, wanting to smother what felt like static in his head. Thankfully, with some therapy and recently starting medication, his bad spells had been decreasing, and would surely cease completely eventually. However, occasionally, the bone-deep exhaustion would come back, and whilst it was no longer as heavy as it used to be, Viktor would still feel crushed.

He distantly heard Yuuri padding into their room and pausing.

“Vitya?” Yuuri asked, tone delicate. Viktor groaned in reply, pushing the pillow harder over his head. Yuuri gently eased the pillow off and placed a kiss there to replace it. He leaned over Viktor and nestled his head into the back of his neck. The weight eased Viktor's thoughts, allowing him to focus on the warm sensation of Yuuri pressing against him.

“I'm not feeling good,” Viktor mumbled, turning his head so the words weren't smothered by the sheets.

“That's okay, baby,” Yuuri murmured, feather-soft against Viktor's neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Later,” Viktor promised. “Now, I just want to lay with you.”

Yuuri gently maneuvered them so they were laying side by side, Viktor cradled against Yuuri's chest and their legs intertwined like the threads of a bracelet. Yuuri emanated heat, soothing the ache in Viktor's limbs like a balm. His head throbbed, almost like a headache but not quite. His mind was a confusing jumble of negative thoughts, a completely incomprehensible mush. Most confusing of all was that Viktor had no idea what had caused it. He'd slept perfectly the night before. He'd had warm cocoa and even warmer kisses from his husband and then woke up the next day feeling as if his body was made of lead. Once again, he was stuck with the thought that his brain was working against him. If there was some kind of trauma it would make sense, and whilst the crushing sense of hopelessness that would overcome him in his teen years wasn't pleasant, it certainly was not enough to explain this. Thanks to therapy, he now knew this wasn't what he was supposed to feel like. His brain was not supposed to naturally feel like this. He'd even experienced it himself for a few days, like the black cloak surrounding his life had been lifted and finally he could _feel_ again. And now that was gone, and the darkness swarming his vision was back.

Yuuri stroked Viktor's hair when he groaned in frustration. His hair was beginning to reach his shoulders, longer than average, but certainly not as long as in his teen years. Yuuri didn't know whether Viktor was planning to grow it completely again but whatever he did with his hair it would be beautiful.

After a few minutes, Viktor gathered the courage to turn to his husband. He took the hand Yuuri offered and held it to his chest. He looked up to where Yuuri was staring at him, his gaze softening. Viktor's eyes were sunken, the creases by them appearing darker than usual. He swallowed dryly, feeling his skin prickle beneath Yuuri's gaze. He didn't want Yuuri to look at him but that was marriage. If anyone was to see him like this, hair greasy and limp, lips chapped, and eyes dull he was glad it was Yuuri. He buried his face in Yuuri's neck. His skin was warm like an oven and smelled like talcum powder and Viktor's shampoo.

They must have laid like that for hours. Despite it all, Viktor felt safe. His responsibilities could wait until later. Then, he only existed within the space of their bed.

“Darling?” Yuuri prompted, lifting his head from where it lay against their pillow.

Viktor hummed in reply.

“I need to feed Makka,” Yuuri said.

“I'll come with you,” Viktor replied.

They slowly got out of bed. As Viktor walked, he felt an almost tangible weight press down on him but he moved nonetheless. He tried to take in the memorabilia around the house, framed photos of special occasions, various certificates showcased on the egg shell white walls, Makkachin's toys carelessly spread across the glossy, wooden floorboards. But he couldn't feel the usual warmth he felt looking at the life Yuuri and he had made together. It felt hollow, like the feeling and memories behind their belongings had been scooped out leaving only the dull exterior.

Viktor felt like a child, wanting nothing more than to hide under his bed and cry until it was all over. But he knew that although staying in his room all day sounded pleasant, the reality of it was far more suffocating. So he followed Yuuri, allowing himself to hold Yuuri's hand as they walked down the stairs as a small comfort.

Makkachin was waiting by her bowl. Her tongue was out and her tail wagged erratically once she heard their footsteps.

“Are you a hungry girl?” Yuuri cooed, retrieving his food from the cabinet. “Here you go.”

Viktor crouched by Makkachin and stroked her shiny coat. He felt a sense of deja-vu from his teen years when he would shove his face in her fur to hide his sobs. Now, if he chose to cry to Makkachin he wouldn't be doing it alone. Small victory.

Yuuri sat beside him and Viktor curled around him like a koala. Viktor's mind unhelpfully interrupted that he was being too clingy, too demanding, but Yuuri had assured him many times that he loved Viktor's hugs. Besides, Yuuri was just as physically affectionate. And yet...

“I'm not too much, am I?” Viktor asked, his stomach churning as he said it. “If I was too clingy you'd tell me, wouldn't you?”

“Viktor, you could never be too much for me,” Yuuri comforted, shifting so that he could pull Viktor into his lap and hug him even tighter. “I love how dramatic you are. I love how tightly you hug me, as if it would hurt you to let go. I love how you always look out for me. I love that you trust me enough to look after you like this.”

Yuuri ran a hand through Viktor's hair and he mewled in response, pushing back into Yuuri's touch.

“It's getting so long now,” Yuuri sighed with a smile. He stroked his hand through it again, noticing how Viktor's shoulders dropped. He was practically melting into his side.

“Viktor, love, are you okay if we move to the sofa?” Yuuri's legs were beginning to cramp.

He nodded and interlocked his fingers with Yuuri's as they moved into the living room. It still smelt pleasantly of their vanilla candles from the night before. They sat on their black couch, the leather dipped beneath their weight.

“Do you mind if I brush your hair?” Yuuri asked, hand softly tracing the line of Viktor's neck. It almost tickled.

Viktor shook his head and waited patiently as Yuuri padded over to the bathroom to get a brush.

Yuuri positioned himself behind the sofa whilst Viktor drew up his knees to curl his arms around them. He felt hands pull his hair behind his shoulders. Yuuri didn't do anything at first, simply brushing his fingers through his silver locks. It was simply unfair; even when Viktor's hair was matted and oily it was still absurdly soft. He picked up the brush, starting at the ends and taking care not to hurt Viktor as he tamed the knots. Viktor shut his eyes, letting the sound of the bristles through his hair and Yuuri's almost inaudible breathing soothe him. Sometimes as a treat, Yakov booked him a spa day after competitions to let his body rest. But the ridiculously overpriced resort couldn't compare to the simplicity of Yuuri's fingers weaving through his hair as delicately as one would hold a mouse.

“I get frustrated at myself,” Viktor began. It used to be hard for him to talk about how he felt. It still was to an extent. Before, he could only do it over text messages but eventually he grew more comfortable with allowing other people to venture inside his head. “I do everything I'm supposed to do. I drink enough water, I eat well, I exercise, I socialise, and yet I still feel like this. I can do things that make the depression feel a bit lighter but it still feels as if there's nothing I can do to get rid of it.”

“I know, dear. I've felt the same. Do you want me to try and get your follow up appointment moved forward?”

“Yeah,” Viktor hummed. “The medication does make it better but it's not enough. I can enjoy things now; it's not like before where it's this constant weight on me that didn't go away no matter what I did. I thought I was getting better but I still feel like this. I just want it gone completely, and I know that's not realistic, but I hate feeling like this.”

“I understand. But as time goes on, it does go away. Not in the sense that you'll never feel unhappy again but when you do, it won't feel like the end of the world. It'll feel like you can cope despite how horrible it feels and I know that sounds weird, because how could this ever feel manageable? But honestly, it becomes something you can deal with, like a cold. Yeah, it's not enjoyable, but it's definitely something you can easily get through.”

“My Yuuri, so inspiring and philosophical.”

Yuuri laughed.

“You're just lucky I went through recovery years before you. I know how annoying it is to get your dosages right, and adjusting to a complete stranger knowing such intimate things about you is weird, but it's worth it. Like you said, you're already getting better. It's slow, painfully sometimes, and you're gonna have times where you relapse like this, but every relapse is going to be a little bit better than the last.”

“I almost feel guilty now; I'm never this good with you when you're feeling bad.”

“You are, Viktor. For someone so talented and wonderful you really do underestimate yourself. You've helped me more than I could ever explain. I like being able to return the favour.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

And then Viktor was crying, but in a good way. The kind that allows oneself to completely expel themselves of negative emotion. Yuuri curled his arms around Viktor's back, holding him through it and kissing his forehead, allowing him to release everything. He didn't know how, but Yuuri had managed to retrieve tissues for him to wipe his nose.

After what felt like hours, Viktor felt his eyes dry. He turned to Yuuri and cracked a smile. It was a weak but genuine. Yuuri leaned in and kissed the tip of Viktor's nose, framing his cheekbones with his hands.

“I love you,” Viktor repeated but he felt it was worth reiterating. Especially when even in a moment like this Yuuri could make his heart flutter.

“I love you too.”

Their lips joined chastely with no desire to press for anything more. Not that Viktor would even have the energy to. Crying was exhausting.

“Do you want to watch something?” Yuuri suggested.

“Yeah, you choose,” Viktor replied, handing over the remote to his husband. He felt calm now, like the waves after a black storm. Yuuri reached for the blanket perched on the armchair and spread it over their laps. Viktor didn't pay too much attention to the light-hearted T.V. show playing but that didn't matter. Yuuri was there beside him, fingers idly tapping the back of his neck whilst Viktor leaned against his shoulder. Eventually, Makkachin plodded along and hopped on their laps to which they pretended to object before rearranging themselves to fit their massive baby between them. Makkachin was a heavy, but comforting, pressure on his legs, her drool making his leg wet but after years of having a pet he didn't even register it.

Viktor lifted his line of sight to Yuuri's face who was focused on the television, occasionally shutting his eyes to laugh. He'd have days like this again but whether it was with Yuuri, or Yakov, or Chris, Yuri, or maybe even just himself, he would get through it like he always had. Viktor smiled as he shut his eyes for a nap.

_I am getting better._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please point out any typos bc I know I will have missed some
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr ](http://blumenwrites.tumblr.com/)  
> [hotlines for different countries!!](http://www.buddy-project.org/hotlines/)


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